The Half Blood Prince
by muishiki
Summary: Harry Potter, Ranma xover. Who is the halfblood prince? What challenges await Harry and friends this year? And why do these blasted owls keep landing on the Tendo Dojo? Has been issued a Do Not Resuscitate Order, preparing to inter this piece.
1. Prologue

Voldemort idly fiddled with his wand as he watched the four Death Eaters lugging the last chest into the chamber. As the last of the Death Eaters marched out of the room, Voldemort quickly counted once more to verify that there were indeed fifteen chests. It would have been so much… simpler and more impressive if they could have simply carried them in by magic, but when the last Death Eater had been sent back in pieces, it was an effective deterrent. Not that the figure seated on the dais above Voldemort intimidated the evil wizard, but Voldemort didn't want to antoagonize his target needlessly.

Voldemort gave his wand a quick flick, throwing back the lids of all the chests at once. He smiled as he heard a small intake of breath from the person behind him. Good. So his target was wary of magic. Voldemort allowed himself a brief smile before he turned around.

"As you can see, your highness, I have brought you a wealth of gold. In our world, Galleons function as currency, but gold is gold. Do we have an agreement?" Voldemort peered into the figures eyes, trying to see beyond them and grasp the feelings behind them.

"I told you I have little need for gold, but your gift is welcome. And no, we do not have an agreement. You may leave me."

Voldemort sighed, pretending to be upset. The fool was setting himself up. "Just one more moment of your time, your highness."

"Yes?"

"I can sense that you are afflicted by a strange curse. I have seen curses like yours before, and while not easy to cure, they can be lifted." Voldemort suddenly raised his voice, yelling "BELLATRIX!" The willowy Death Eater quickly appeared by her master's side, kneeling at his left. "Please explain, and then demonstrate."

She bowed low. "As you wish, master." She rose from the ground, and with out hesitation slipped out of her robes. Naked, she stepped forward and began her tale. "You see, your highness, it all began in this place known as Jusenkyo…"

Voldemort suppressed his smile as best he could, but for the first time, he was able to read his opponents eyes. Oh yes. This year would be fun indeed. An overwhelming sense of glee began to rise within him.

This year would be the year he killed Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Harry Tormented

The summer heat hadn't given way when night fell, and all across Privet Drive it seemed as if even the houses had given up to the heat. Rain hadn't fallen in weeks, and the usually carefully manicured lawns and washed cars had given way to dead grass and dust covered automobiles. The air was thick and sweltering; even the insects seemed to be too exhausted to venture forth.

Number 4 Privet Drive looked just like any other house along the street. In the light of the street lamp you could just make out a dirty car in the car port, the dying lawn, and the bushes that stood under the living room window. They were just as withered as everything else. One window on the second story was open in hope that some sort of breeze might enter and offer some respite from the relentless heat. It also allowed owls to come in and out of the room with freedom, even if that hadn't been happening this summer.

Inside the room the curtains hung listlessly. If rooms could reflect the inner turmoil of the occupants, this one did. Clothes were strewn across the floor in no particular order. Books were stacked haphazardly wherever clothes hadn't taken over. The desk was covered in parchment, scrolls, and used quills covered in dried ink. A stack of books took up the remaining space, and a half eaten sandwich with sweaty cheese and stale bread lay on top of it.

Some of the papers were spilling off of the desk to land near the bed and night stand next to it. The only thing on the night stand was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses with tape holding the bridge together and an alarm clock. The bed was a little too small for its occupant; the top of his head touched the headboard and his feet hung off the end bed. Harry Potter was tossing and turning in the bed, mumbling in his sleep.

Harry bolted awake and his hand flew to his scar. His forehead was burning, as it often did whenever Voldemort had a particularly strong emotion. This wasn't the first time this had happened this summer, but most of the time the pain would pass and Harry would only know that Voldemort was happy or angry. However, this time Harry knew something important had happened, and he had no idea as to why he knew that. All he could remember from his dream was a pair of eyes with colors so intense they hurt to look at, and an overwhelming sense of glee.

This strange psychic link Harry and Voldemort shared was the result of a failed attempt on Harry's life as an infant. Voldemort had been the most powerful dark wizard of the age, sowing discord, death, and mayhem among the wizarding community. At one point, just prior to Harry's birth, it had been prophesied that a boy would be born whose parents had thrice defied the Dark Lord. Voldemort would mark that boy as his equal.

Two boys had been born that fit that description, and Voldemort had chosen Harry over Neville Longbottom, his friend and classmate. Voldemort killed Harry's parents and then attempted to kill the infant Harry. The curse that should have killed him was instead reflected back, turning Voldemort into little more than a wraith for fifteen years and Harry into a celebrity for something he had no control over. He was, after all, "The Boy Who Lived."

That attack on Harry had left him with a lighting shaped scar on his forehead. In a strange twist of fate, it had also linked Harry to Voldemort in some unknown manner. Over the years, the connection had been growing stronger, to the point that now Harry could almost always tell what kind of mood Voldemort was in. Harry had been working to block those feelings out, because the last time he didn't, it had led to the death of his god father, Sirius Black.

Harry had been a fool last year. He had been so eager to learn what Voldemort had been thinking played right into the dark wizard's hands. Voldemort had tricked Harry into believing that the dreams he saw were real, and that Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries inside the Ministry of Magic. Instead, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been waiting, and Sirius had come to rescue Harry. In the end, several Death Eaters had been captured, the prophesy Voldemort wanted to steal had been smashed, and Sirius was killed.

The exchange hadn't been worth it.

Harry looked at his clock. 11:45 P.M. Harry was still trying to decide if this latest dream was something he needed to pay attention to, or if this was just another of Voldemort's tricks. With a sigh, Harry decided that he couldn't ignore this one. This hadn't been an ordinary dream, this was a vision. Something very, very good had happened to Voldemort tonight.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be good for Harry. The one time Harry wished he could remember the details he couldn't. Perhaps the self practice in occlumency had helped, or perhaps Voldemort was trying to hide what ever had happened but couldn't completely. Either way, it was just one more thing to worry about.

Harry flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes; he tried to clear his mind and fall back to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well this summer at all – between the stress of not having contact with his friends, knowing Voldemort was out there and looking for him, and the death of Sirius, Harry was exhausted.. After about fifteen minutes, it became clear that it wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon. He was a little too wired.

With a sigh, Harry sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He put his head in his hands and sat for a bit, trying not to think. However, thoughts of Voldemort inevitably lead to thoughts of Sirius, his dead god-father, and then to thoughts of what he had learned after his last confrontation with the dark wizard.

Harry reached to the night stand and got his glasses. He put them on and scrubbed his hands through his hair a couple of times. With that, he got up from the bed and walked to the open window. It was a hot, stifling summer night, and even sounds were muffled by the pressing darkness; it reflected his mood perfectly. It was the stillness that happens only before a major storm comes crashing through.

Being stuck at number 4, Privet Drive did nothing to help relieve the tension. If anything, his aunt's house made it worse, because it was the only safe place for him to pass the summer, and he wasn't even allowed out. Harry caught his reflection in the open window – he had bags under his eyes, he had grown and inch or two, and his hair was as wild as ever. He turned back to look at the clock, noting the time. 12:23.

He turned back and gave his reflection a wan smile.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

He felt much older than 16.

He turned from the window and walked back over to his bed. Not for the first time, he wished the summer would hurry up and end. He could go back to school then – and even with all the dangers that might involve, it would be better than this endless waiting. He expected the Order of the Phoenix to send him some sort of word – a message, well wishes… something. He was hardly surprised when the only message he had received all summer was a single owl with the message, "Don't Leave the House." For all he knew, Hermione and Ron had probably been forbidden from even sending him a card for his birthday. He hadn't even seen Ms. Fig, the squib that had helped him last year after the dementor attacks.

Harry was sure that he was being watched by the Order, but who ever was watching him was taking great care to make sure they weren't spotted. Harry understood the reason for that, in fact. He was so desperate for contact from the wizarding world that he just might leave the house to chase the watchers down, the one thing he was forbidden to do.

The fact that the only message had been from Dumbledore had made it even harder to bear. After telling revealing that Harry alone in the entire wizarding world was capable of ending Voldemort's reign of terror, he hadn't as so much as given him a word of encouragement or tips on how to do it. So what if Harry was potentially Voldemort's equal? He certainly didn't feel like he was now, and it was unlikely he would be by the time they faced each other again. Sirius had been one of the most capable wizards Harry had known (besides Dumbledore), and he had been killed by a much less powerful wizard than Voldemort.

Only Harry could kill Voldemort, the Dark Lord. Not even Dumbledore, for all his power and knowledge, could do it. Harry Potter, the one marked by Voldemort as his equal, was the only one capable of delivering the killing blow. Like the prophesy said, "_Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives._"

Harry had never really felt the terror that the rest of the wizarding world had about Voldemort. Sure, after having faced him a number of times Voldemort was scary enough. However, thoughts of Voldemort only made Harry absolutely furious. He was angry precisely because he knew he was afraid. Voldemort was his adversary, his prophesied foe, and the one who took everything precious that Harry had possessed thus far. It was easier to be angry than scared.

Sirius had been killed. And Harry's parents, and… The list went on. The biggest fear that Harry had is that his friends would be the next target. And that made him furious. Except… Harry was too tired to be angry right now. Oh, he had silently raged at the injustice of it all a number of times this summer. He frequently fluctuated between bouts of depression and rage, with a healthy dosing of anxiety as well. Even his adoptive parents, the Dursley's, had been wary of him this summer. They had seen Harry angry a few times, and invariably something bad happened to anyone who antagonized him. Too many strange events had been happening in the past year for them to do otherwise.

Last summer a couple of Dementors had attacked Harry and his cousin, Dudley. Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been all too pleased that Harry wished to stay locked in his room this summer. It kept Harry out of their hair, and achieved the one thing they had attempted since he was first adopted – complete exclusion from the Dursley's family life.

They would push food through the cat flap in his door three times a day, and Harry would leave the room to use the toilet or bring dirty dishes and clothing out to be washed. They even let Harry have one of Dudley's old TV's so that he could watch the news and stay out of their way. Harry had been happy to oblige.

But the solitude was starting to get to him, as was the lack of sleep. Sleep was his only refuge from the solitude, but sleep brought the nightmares with Sirius and half remembered dreams of Voldemort that vanished upon waking. He'd wake up sobbing for no reason, and then get angry with himself for it. His anger would then give way to anxiety, then to fear, and back to anger. It was emotionally exhausting.

Harry had tried to channel is anger into his old books, scouring them for spells to use in his upcoming year. He'd completely read every defense against the dark arts book he'd had from cover to cover, even the boring ones. He'd read his potions books as well, carefully noting which ones might be useful and why. Transfiguration was a bit dry, but he had done his best and he actually thought he might be starting to understand the theory behind it a little more. Charms of course were very useful, and he'd spent a great deal of time thinking about and practicing his wand work in preparation. At his low point, he even read "Hogwarts: A History" for lack of better things to do.

But all this studying wouldn't help if he couldn't practice.

Harry looked around his room for a bit. Books were piled high on his desk, and his chest was in the middle of the room, thrown open with his robes scattered across the room. It was a mess. He didn't feel like reading, and he couldn't go to sleep at this point. He idly picked up a robe that was strewn haphazardly across the foot of the bed, folded it neatly, and walked over to his trunk.

He knelt down before the trunk and slowly started taking the items out one by one. First he pulled out his Hogwart's school robes, which Harry folded one by one and stacked on top of the first one. Next were some book that he hadn't dug out yet – divination, some books about the care of magical creatures, botany… He stacked those to the side carefully. Sneakascopes and his wizards chest set was set on top of the robes, along with various odds and ends he'd accumulated over time. His father's invisibility cloak came next, along with the Marauder's Map.

And so it continued for a while – Harry would carefully pull out each article and neatly sort it before reaching into the chest again. The last item was the mirror given to him by Sirius for Christmas. With trembling fingers, he reached into the chest and pulled it out. He pulled it close and flipped open the lid. The mirror inside was shattered, and his jagged reflection stared back at him.

His soft crying didn't carry very far in the heavy night air.

* * *

"Saotome Ramna." 

Ranma started awake. The quick jab to his ribs was the real reason he woke up, actually. He shifted in his seat to look right to at his assailant. Akane just looked at him irritably and motioned to the front of the assembly hall. A light bulb when off in his head.

Ranma stood up, took a moment to straighten his formal kimono, and decided to walk up to the front of the assembly hall. He had briefly toyed with the idea of leaping to the front to receive his diploma, but he didn't want piss Akane off. He could feel the eyes of the student body on him as he walked up. A number of people were surprised he was graduating at all, not to mention himself.

When he arrived at the front of the auditorium, he stopped a few paces from the podium and bowed to Principal Kuno. He smirked as he did so – this would be the only time he'd ever bow to that freak, and the principal knew it. Ranma straightened and stood tall.

"And so, it is my honor as your principal to award you this degree from Furinkan High School…" Principal Kuno took a scroll from the podium he was standing behind and held it forward to Ranma. Ranma strode forward and stopped right before the podium, performed a bowed again, and while still bent over reached forward with both hands to accept his diploma.

He simply shifted his head to the left as he felt Principal Kuno strike. Ranma let out a small sigh as he reached up with his left and grabbed the elder Kuno's wrist before he could pull his arm back. He promised Akane he wouldn't fight today, but that didn't mean he couldn't leave a little remembrance for the kook.

Ranma squeezed as hard, just short of the point at which the bones would shatter. He could feel them grinding against each other. The Principal gasp in pain and surprise at the pressure, forcing open his hand, and making him drop the sheers he had been holding. Ranma caught them in his right hand and released his grip.

"Thank you, Principal Kuno!" Ranma couldn't contain the sarcasm in his voice when he spoke out, and he heard a few snickers from some of the students sitting in the first row. Oh well. Kuno had started it. Ranma performed a quick bow again, stepped back three paces, held the sheers and diploma up before him, bowed once more, and then turned and walked back to his seat.

When Ranma sat back down, he watched in satisfaction as Principal Kuno nursed his wrist during the presentation of the next diploma.

"Ranma?"

"Nn?"

"Thank you for not fighting. You handled that well. I'm proud of you." With that, Akane leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. He glanced over at her and smiled.

"A graduation present from Principal Kuno." He showed her the clippers in his right hand, glad to hear her laugh as he did so. She gingerly took the clippers from him and entwined her left hand in his right. They sat there, hand in hand, until Akane's turn to walk up was announced.

Ranma watched her walk up to receive her diploma and reflected on the past year. It had been a strange year for them. After the whole Saffron incident, life hadn't been exactly normal, but the strangeness had come at a steady, manageable flow. And that was the thing that bothered him the most.

Kidnappings happened on the weekend, instead of the middle of the week. People sent challenge letters and let Ranma pick the date. Unannounced visitors with strange stories didn't automatically drag Ranma into their problems unless he asked. It was almost as if beating Saffron had given Ranma the ability to control the chaos around him to some extent.

The one sore point with Akane was that the fiancé problem hadn't really been resolved yet. Ukyo had all but stopped asking about it, and Ranma had been very clear (in Akane's presence, no less) that he would not marry Shampoo. She still chased him half-heartedly, but they both knew it was just to maintain face with her great-grandmother. Ranma was trying to figure out some way of repaying Ukyo's dowry to help her save face, as well. But last he checked, both Ukyo and Shampoo were still calling him "my fiancée, Ranma."

Even Ku-Lon had stopped pushing. After hearing about the China exploits, she stopped calling him "son-in-law" and simply called him Ranma. It was a nice change. Oh, she still tormented him in the name of "training," for which Ranma was actually glad. Between her training and Happosai's twice daily classes to transfer the grand-master title of Anything Goes to him, Ranma was three times as good as he had been when he fought Saffron.

Most of all, the past year had been good for his relationship with Akane. It had started off slowly after the Saffron fight. Ranma was so far behind in school at that he was in really danger of failing all his classes. Akane had agreed to help him catch up. For some reason, the usually pressure that was invariably applied when they were alone disappeared. It might have been that Nabiki had gone to college, or perhaps that Mr. Saotome, Ranma's father, had been forced to move out of the Tendo Dojo and in with his wife (Ranma's mother), Nodoka.

At any rate, Ranma and Akane were largely left alone for the first time since they had met nearly two years ago. And with Ranma's grades being as dismal as they were, he required a lot of studying to catch up, and that meant a lot of alone time with Akane.

The initial study sessions had been very awkward. Not even a week had passed since he had just fought an immortal being and destroyed him. The failed wedding was only a couple days in the past. He was still walking on eggshells around Akane, because no matter how much he might like her he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

And so they studied. At first it had simply been the two of them side by side in Akane's room, with Akane watching over his work and correcting his mistakes. Ranma wasn't dumb; he just wasn't used to having to think about stuff outside of martial arts.

The first initial couple of weeks of catching up had been torturous for them both. Ranma simply hated doing the school work, and Akane was determined to make him do it. They stared daggers at each other, and Ranma did his best to piss her off on the sick hopes that Akane would knock him out. The two of them resorted to name calling and petty squabbles that had plagued them from the beginning of their relationship.

But for some reason, the heat had left the arguments. It might have been because Ranma thanked Akane for helping before hand, or because Akane exercised unusually restraint before clobbering him. They didn't end in an unconscious Ranma or a teary-eyed Akane – they kept their tempers in check (for the most part), and forced Ranma to do his work.

Forcing them to work together in a confined space daily really did have an effect on them. After the first couple of weeks the fights became less frequent and were resolved quicker. Ranma genuinely came to appreciate all the effort Akane went through to help him. Once they managed to stop fighting, they started to fill the time with conversation. At first, they didn't really have much to talk about, because they were both acutely aware of how… strange it was to be alone and not be interrupted. But gradually, as they became more accustomed to it learned to relax around each other. Then, the conversation started to flow.

They talked about little things – school, their friends, comic books, and TV shows. But once they learned how to talk to each other, it was as if the dam had burst. They ended talking about the previous year, and about the Saffron incident. It was a slow process, but gradually they learn how to talk to each other like friends. They talked about love, their love for each other (which Ranma was finally brave enough to admit), whether or not they should or would get married, about the other fiancées, and about the Art in general and the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts in particular.

Now, nearly a year after that fight with Saffron, they rarely fought, and when they did Akane would give Ranma a chance to explain before sending him flying. Ranma, for his part, had gotten a lot better at actually saying what he meant. That didn't mean they didn't have their occasionally blow ups, but they were learning how to work through them. The training had helped with that, too.

About two weeks into his tutoring, Akane had asked that Ranma train her. At first Ranma had refused. So, Akane stopped tutoring him, and went to his father, Saotome Genma. Genma had forced Ranma to watch that first practice. It was unbearable. Genma had no mercy on Akane – thirty minutes into the training she was sporting two shiners and a busted lip, a sprained ankle, and bruises to practically every tender spot on her body.

Between being forced to watch Akane get beaten to a pulp and the growing pile of school work he needed help with, Ranma had given in and agreed to train her. He had a hard time causing her pain, but at least it wasn't malicious like Genma. He and Akane had fought about it on numerous occasions – Akane wanted to not pull his punches, and Ranma argued that Akane wasn't advanced enough at that point. In the end, the compromise they reached was that Akane could train with Genma two times a week and get the snot beat out of her ("toughen her up," as Genma put it) and Ranma would work on making her a better martial artist.

Teaching Akane had given Ranma a new perspective. He started to understand how tough it must have been for Akane to tutor him, especially considering he had purposely been an ass in the beginning. For Ranma, martial arts were just easy – it was partly background and partly natural ability, but teaching Akane at first was like pulling teeth. Not that Akane wouldn't or couldn't be a great martial artist, but she just didn't have the necessary mind frame yet. Ranma was the same with academics – he wasn't a great student, but it didn't mean he couldn't learn how to be.

The problem was, the only way he knew how to teach was the way he had been taught, and there was no way he was going to torture Akane just to make her better at the Art. And so, he began from scratch. He began to visit other dojos around the area to see how beginning classes were run, and to get an idea of what made a good teacher. With Akane, he spent six months just working on making her fundamentals - better speed, precision, agility, and stamina. From there, he gradually began working in the more complex teachings of the Anything Goes School.

Happosai had taken an active roll in the training as well. He didn't train Akane, but he stepped up Ranma's own training quite a bit. Happosai was serious about it, for a change. He drilled Ranma in the forms of Anything Goes, as well as teaching him advanced ki manipulation techniques. Soun and Genma took part as well, fighting with Happosai three on one against Ranma. The training had a two fold effect – it made Ranma a much better martial artist, and it also taught him how to teach. For all of Happosai's perversions, the old goat was an excellent, if crude, teacher.

And so the weeks flew by. Ranma was training with Happosai morning and night, taking lessons with Akane for several hours a night, and then training Akane late in the evening. Ranma had never been more tired, beat up, and stressed. And it was great.

It was inevitable with all the time that Ranma and Akane were spending together that their relationship would eventually progress to the next stage. The first time they kissed was an accident like everything else in their relationship. About three months into training her, Ranma was teaching Akane basic over the shoulder throws – the idea was to step into your opponent, grab a handful of their gi at the neck, turn your back and whip them over your shoulder. Akane reached in to grab his gi, and performed the throw. Ranma shifted his weight mid-throw to get her off balance, and it work.

The result was that Akane lost her balance and ended up on her back with Ranma on top of her, face to face. They simply looked at each other for a few seconds as their lips got inexorably closer. The first contact was just a brush, really, at which point they both pulled back to stare at each other. After that, Akane simply grabbed the back of Ranma's head and started kissing him in earnest. They didn't get much training done that day.

Ranma train of thought was snapped by the loud speakers.

"Congratulations, Furinkan graduates! We have prepared you as best we were able – now it is time for you to set forth. For some, it might be college, and for others work. Good luck and may the gods smile upon you where ever you go. Now please stand and sing the anthem with us."

As one the graduating students rose. The loud speakers started to pump the sounds of a ukulele playing "Kimi Ga Yo." Several students sniggered – Ranma shrugged and mumbled along with those that sang.

* * *

After the ceremony, the graduates shuffled out of the auditorium in clumps and gathered in the courtyard to chat and exchange addresses. Ranma and Akane walked out into the sunlight holding hands. Ranma saw a couple of his friends hanging out by the often destroyed statue of the current Principal. 

"Yo, Akane – I'm going to go say bye to Daisuke and Hiroshi, alright?" He nodded in their direction.

"Oh, sure. Yuka and Sarui and I were going to go get some ice cream anyway. It's been so long since I've hung out with them, and this might be the last time I do for a while. Do you want to just meet up at the dojo later?"

"Sounds good. See ya in a bit, okay?" Ranma gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go and walking over to join his friends. They waved at him as he approached, and Ranma nodded in acknowledgement.

"Man," Hiroshi started, "Was that a boring ceremony or what, Ranma? At least you had the thrill of having Principal Kuno attacking you."

Ranma chuckled briefly at Hiroshi, before pulling out the pair of sheers he stole from Kuno and gently chucked them at his friends.

"Nice. Aren't these his favorite pair?" Hiroshi turned them over in his hands and handed them to Diasuke.

Ranma shrugged. "Yeah, probably."

"Gonna give 'em back?"

Ranma shook his head and picked them out of Diasuke's hands. "I've got to have some sort of remembrance from Furinkan. Might as well be these. Besides, he's got a million of them." He put the sheers into his sleeve again. "What's the plan?"

Daisuke shrugged. "Gonna head over to my house. It's close, and Hiroshi already changed at my place, because my mom knows how to put on a hakama properly. She's also got some food for us when we get over there. She's expecting us."

"Sounds good."

The three chatted as the walked, talking about school gossip and summer plans. Daisuke was planning on going to college in the fall. Hiroshi didn't quite pass the exams he had sat for, so he was going to take a year as a ronin and study for the next round of college admission exams. Hiroshi also vowed to find a girlfriend next year. Neither Ranma or Diasuke gave that much credence, though.

"Speaking of girlfriends… You and Akane done it yet, Ranma?" Hiroshi danced out of the way of Ranma's half hearted swat.

"You guys know better than to ask. I'm not going to tell you."

"Heh. So not yet, huh? What you waiting for?"

"That's none of your business, you perverts. Why are you so curious, anyway?"

"Cause, man. Akane's hot."

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "Yeah dude. I'd totally be all up in that if I were you. I bet she's a wild one."

"Daisuke…" Ranma's voice carried a hint of a growl.

Daisuke held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Take it easy there. I mean, come on… You've got good-looking women hanging all over you, and you don't even do anything about it. You're tying them up for the rest of us poor fellows. You think you could at least give us one of your other fiancées, ya know? You don't need all three when it's pretty clear Akane's the one you want." Daisuke shrugged. "You could help your poor friends out, you know. We've helped you!"

Ranma gave his friends a half lidded look. "Oh really? Name one time."

Hiroshi and Diasuke both looked at each other. Daisuke looked about to speak, but then he thought better. "Actually, come to think of it…"

Ranma laughed. "Thought as much. Don't ask any more questions about it, okay?"

"But Ranma… aren't you even curious about it? Have you asked her if she wanted to?"

Ranma almost tripped as his slipper caught a crack in the sidewalk. "That's not something you just ask!"

"Yeah it is." Diasuke chuckled. "I've asked all my girlfriends." Hiroshi nodded in agreement.

"Is that's why you two are perpetually single, and can never keep a girlfriend for more than a week?" Ranma asked.

"She'd jump you in a heartbeat if you just asked! What are you waiting for?"

"It… Well… I mean…"

"You mean it never occurred to you, right?"

Ranma just shrugged.

"You've seen her naked right? And it didn't occur to you then?"

Ranma raised an eyebrow. Daisuke took a step back. "Unlike you letches and Happosai, I can control myself. Plus, I see a girl naked every time I take a bath. Me. So a pair of boobs isn't exactly a thrilling."

Daisuke fell silent for a few moments. "Hmm… Hey Ranma, can I ask you a question?"

"Is it perverted?"

"Um… No."

"Alright."

"Did you tell her you love her?"

Ranma paused. "Why?"

"Cause, man. That's like the surest way to get a chick in the sack."

"DAISUKE!"

"Sorry, sorry! Just one more question."

"You are really wearing my patience thin."

"Well.. see.. I…" Daisuke paused, lost in thought. "Are you sure you didn't take one too many kicks to the groin? Is everything down there working properly?"

A vein started to throb in Ranma's forehead. "I suggest you two find a new topic, and fast. I won't be held liable for any bodily harm that is about to befall you."

Hiroshi just looked at Daisuke and shrugged. "Your loss, man. You mean, you never asked Akane to…?" Hiroshi made some graphic depictions of a fairly lewd act.

"No."

"Or…?" Daisuke also demonstrated.

"NO!" Ranma blushed.

"What about…?"

"Ye… I mean, NO! Now stop asking!"

And so back and forth it went. They arrived at Daisuke's home before they ran out of questions. Ranma was saved by Daisuke's mother, who greeted the three at the front door. She ushered the graduates inside to congratulations, food, and presents.

* * *

"Gosh, it's been such a long time since we've been here together. I'm really sorry; I've just been so busy with training and everything…" Akane looked over at her friends and smiled. "I forgot how often we used to come here." 

Akane looked around the ice cream parlor from the corner booth she occupied. She used to come here often as a first year high school student. She her friends would all pile into this very corner booth and stuff themselves with ice cream, talk about boys, and gossip.

Sarui shrugged. "Well, you can't blame us. Just because you've spent the last six months holed up with your fiancée doesn't mean you couldn't have joined us at least once or twice. We've been coming every week, same as always."

"Yeah… You've practically dropped off the face of the earth. I know you've been 'training' a lot with Ranma-kun, but really. Is it enough to make you forget about ice cream?"

Akane missed the last part of Yuka's sentence as she watched with unconcealed glee as her sundae was brought to the table by the waiter. He gently placed the creation in the middle of the three girls, right in front of Akane. He smiled and winked at her, but she just ignored him, her attention completely on the mound of ice cream in front of her. Fifteen scoops of ice cream, six different toppings, nuts, whipped cream, and five cherries. It was perfect.

Her friends giggled on either side of her, and Akane sat up straight and leaned back so she could see her friends with more than just her peripheral vision. The gargantuan mass of ice cream blocked out everything in front of her.

"Gosh… Akane, you think the three of us can finish that?"

Akane stopped short of picking up her spoon. "Oh… I didn't realize you wanted to share. I can't believe I forgot! I'm so sorry! I should have gotten a bigger one - Want me to order one more?" Akane couldn't see her friends jaws hitting the table, but she could certainly make out the sounds clearly enough.

"Um… No, that's alright. We'll just get some small ones." They snagged the waiter and ordered two single scoop sundaes for themselves.

"Okay. I'm sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I eat first? I don't want this to melt…"

"Ahh.. Sure… Please, go ahead."

Akane's friends watched in sick fascination as she proceeded to demolish the beast in front of her. Akane was almost half way through hers by the time the two smaller dishes arrived. Nobody spoke as the trio consumed their treats.

Akane was sorely tempted to lick the bowl, but decided better of it when she saw the look of horror on her friends faces. "What?"

Sarui started to tear. "Akane, why didn't you tell us?"

Yuka reached across the table and grasped Akane's hand. "We're your friends! We could have helped!"

"What are you talking about?"

The two girls looked at each other and then at Akane. "If we had known Ranma was so awful to you, we would have done something! Why didn't you tell us he wouldn't let you eat?"

"Wha…?"

"And all those bruises! Has he been hitting you?"

"Yeah, but only if I ask him really nicely."

"That… That's just sick! He's trained you to ask?"

"No… He just pulls his punches unless I remind him not to. And he still won't hit me as hard as he hits his dad or Ryoga. He's hitting me harder now, but it's still frustrating."

Her two friends let out a simultaneous cry of "you poor girl" before throwing themselves into Akane to wrap her into a hug. Akane winced as she felt the air get knocked out of their lungs from the impact.

"Um.. Sorry. I should have warned you about that. I'm not as soft as I used to be."

Sarui rubbed her nose and winced. "No kidding. But still, why didn't you tell us about Ranma? How could you let him be so mean?"

"Mean? What are you talking about?"

"He hits you, he starves you, he doesn't let you go out…" Sarui trailed off. Yuka picked up her slack. "Yeah, you didn't even look at the waiter who served us ice cream. You used to flirt with him all the time!"

Akane wiped her lips with a napkin as she thought about it. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" She shrugged. "Oh well. He's cute and all, but I honestly didn't notice." Suddenly the things that her friends had been saying caught up with her.

"YOU THINK RANMA DOES WHAT TO ME?"

* * *

Akane didn't even bother to open the door properly. She just ripped it off the hinges and stalked out. Hmm… there was a certain therapeutic value in that. She was nearly fifteen blocks away before her 'friends' caught up with her. 

"A… Ka.. Ne! Wait Up!" Yuka and Sarui came running to her, out of breath and sweating.

Yuka tired to force out a sentence while gasping for air. "Why… did… you…" She eventually gave up, and concentrated instead on just getting her breath back.

Akane slowed down so they could get their wind back. Up ahead she saw a small park, and pointed to it. Yuka and Sarui both agreed. It wasn't long until they saw a bench under the shade of a spreading oak tree. The two girls sank on to it gratefully, fanning them selves and opening the necks of their kimonos. Akane just stood in front of them, gazing down at them with slit eyes.

After a few minutes their breathing was almost back to normal. "Do you know how hard it is to run in one of these, Akane?" Sarui looked at her reproachfully.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Fighting in one is even worse."

That brought the two of them up short. "You two don't get it. I can't believe you'd think Ranma would treat me poorly. After all the times he's rescued me, and all the situations he's gotten us out of… How could you think that?"

"You ARE covered in bruises. You said that he gave them to you. What are we supposed to think?" Yuka spread her legs out in a very unlady-like fashion, hoping to get some sort of circulation inside her robes.

"He's been training me. Relentlessly, actually. Because I asked him to. Bruises are just a natural part of martial arts."

"You didn't have bruises all the time when your dad was training you."

"Yeah, because my dad was too weak to train me properly."

Both girls looked at her wide-eyed. Akane sighed. She shooed them apart on the bench and sat down next in between them.

"My whole life, my dad was told me I was the best martial artist in the district, and that he was training me to be the best ever. Then, Ranma came along. And his friends. And his enemies. I suddenly went from being one of the best to being one of the worst in the matter of weeks, if not days. It wasn't very pleasant. My dad held me back for fear of me getting hurt."

"My dad did nothing to help. I love him, but he also didn't do me, or my school of martial arts, proud by doing that. He coddled me. I can understand why he did it. I mean, he lost our mother, and he didn't want to risk losing me, I guess." Akane sighed and looked at her hands.

"What he didn't understand was that I WANTED to the best. I want to be as good as Ranma or better. Chances of that happening are slim, but at least Ranma is willing to train me properly, so that I have a chance of reaching my full potential."

"But… Akane… he.. Ranma. He HITS you."

"Yeah, because I ask him too. How can you expect me to be a marital artist if I can't fight? I've got to learn how to take blows just like anyone else. This is something I want, remember. For the first time in my life, someone is taking me and my training seriously. And it feels great, even if it hurts like a bitch."

"You two will never know how much I appreciate and respect Ranma for doing this. It isn't easy for him, you know. He really, really dislikes hitting me, but he dislikes dishonoring me and my art more. He is unwilling to do what my father did, which is to hold me back."

The three sat silently for a while.

"Akane?"

"Yes, Yuka?"

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know." Sarui chimed in with her apology as well. Akane just waved them away.

"I shouldn't have gotten angry. It's hard enough for me to understand, let alone you two."

"I guess we could have asked more, you know?"

Akane looked around the park, idly watching birds as they fluttered about hunting insects. "There is no real way you could have known, really. I didn't understand what it meant until recently, either. I… always wanted to be a martial artist, but I didn't understand what that meant. Ranma's helping me learn. I either do it, or I don't."

"And how's that going?" Sarui asked.

"It's going… really well, actually. I've finally realize how much I have to learn. I'm decades behind where I probably should be by this point. I've got a lot of bad habits, and I'm trying to get past them." She giggled unexpectedly. "Luckily, Ranma does too."

"In Martial Arts?"

"No… not in that. Just in general."

"Like you with your ice cream?"

Akane blushed. "hehe.. Yeah. Sorry about that. The last time I went out for ice cream, I went with Ranma. He didn't let me eat a single bite unless I won it fair and square. So, I've… gotten to eat a lot faster. Necessity, really."

"So he doesn't let you eat?"

"We only fight at breakfast. Otherwise, I insist on good table manners."

The girls oohed together.

"What do you to plan on doing now? Are you going to go to college, Akane?"

Akane shrugged. "We still don't know. We've talked about it a bit, but… Neither one of us really had time to sit for any exams this year. The one exam I was going to sit for I had to miss because some silly turnip demon decided to invade a sushi shop in Kyoto."

"Turnip demon?" Sarui shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah," Akane snorted, "it was pretty lame." The two girls laughed as Akane related the story about how they pickled a turnip demon in a downtown Kyoto sushi restaurant.

"So," Yuka asked, "What kind of bad habits does Ranma have that we don't already know about?" She tried to act nonchalantly as she waited for the answer, and failed miserably.

"Yuka!" Akane mocked outrage. "Are you asking for gossip about my fiancée Ranma Saotome?"

"Yeap!"

"Dish the dirt?" Sarui gave Akane her best set of puppy dog eyes.

"You two are terrible, you know that?"

"Yeah, we know. Gossip?"

"I don't know…"

"How about we ask questions and you can answer as you see fit?"

"But…"

"Just trust us! Would we pry?"

"Yes! That's why I don't trust you!"

"But you love it, don't you?"

Akane tried to suppress a grin and failed. "You got me. Fire away."

* * *

"I'm home!" Akane stepped in the door and slid it shut behind her. She kicked off her formal slippers and stepped into the hallway leading to the family room. 

"Oh, welcome back Akane." Kasumi came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Do you need help with your kimono?"

"Is Ranma back?"

"Yes, he just got back a few minutes ago. Why?"

Akane grinned wickedly at her older sister and winked. "Then I don't need help with my clothes."

"Oh my…"

* * *

Ranma was untying the belt that held his kimono closed when he heard the door to his room slide open. He paused in what he was doing and turned to see Akane standing in the doorway, still decked out in her formal garb. 

"Heya, Akane. I was getting changed, want to close the door?"

She stepped in and closed the door behind her. She dropped her handbag by the door and walked over towards him. "Need some help?"

"Um…" Ranma stood dumbfounded as Akane stepped up to him until the fabric of her garments almost touched his. She removed his hands from his sash and stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.

"Um… Akane?"

"Shh… Hold your arms out, Ranma."

He did as he was instructed. Still holding the end of his sash, she carefully stepped behind him and leaned against his back. The belt was wrapped three and a half times around him, so Akane undid the cloth belt with agonizing slowness, maintaining as much contact with his back as possible. When she finished, Ranma's garments were hanging off his shoulders, partially open in the front. As quickly as possible she folded the belt over in 15 centimeter lengths and bent over to lay it neatly on the ground.

She stood back up, slowly sliding up the side of Ranma's legs with her hands. The material of his garment was dragged up as well, exposing his calves. When she got to his waist she slid her arms over his hips and to his stomach, clasping them at his navel as she hugged him from behind. She held him like that for while, enjoying the sensation of his diaphragm expanding and his warmth.

"Akane?" Ranma dropped his arms to lay his hands over hers.

"Nnn?" She unclasped her hands and slid her right hand out from under his arms and under the fold of his robe, touching his bare skin beneath. She slowly slid her hand down till she felt the top of his boxer shorts, and slipped her pinky underneath the elastic.

Ranma gulped. "Umm… Wha…I mean.. Uh.." Ranma trailed off. After a couple moments of quiet, he finally found his voice.

"Ranma?"

"Yes?"

"Turn around."

Ranma turned in her grip so that he was facing her. However, her hand was still beneath his robe, and so it was forced mostly open as her hand slid to his lower back. His left side was exposed. Akane took her left arm and slid it under the right side and pulled him into a strong hug.

She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Excited?"

"What do you think, Akane?"

She ground her stomach into the rapidly growing bulge in his boxers. She smiled as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Ranma – What do we do next? We never really planned on what would happen after graduation. Or even what would happen with us."

Ranma wrapped his arms around her and rested his hands on her hips. He sighed. "Dunno, Akane. What do you think we should do?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. But we need to do something. Let's ask Nabiki when she gets back. She'll be able to help."

Ranma frowned but didn't say anything. Akane suddenly stepped away from him and turned so her back was facing him. She looked over her shoulder at him with a twinkle in her eye.

"Are you going to get me out of these clothes, or what?"

* * *

Dinner downstairs was a semi-formal affair. Both sides of the Saotome clan and the Tendo clan gathered around the low table as they celebrated. It was a shabu shabu night in honor of the graduates, and there was enough food for everyone. Conversation flowed, and after the meal was over Tendo Soun (Akane's father) and Saotome Genma (Ranma's dad) broke out a bottle of sake and started to drink, toasting first to the graduates and then to the eventual uniting of the school. Akane and Ranma both ignored the ruckus, having heard the like many times over the course of their relationship. 

Ranma, Akane, and her two older sisters, Kasumi and Nabiki, ended up taking some deserts into the back yard to escape the drunken revelry. As always happens when families gather, talk of the past – Ranma and Akane's graduation, Nabiki's first year at college, and the like – gave way to talk about the future.

"Actually, Nabiki… and you too, Kasumi. Ranma and I were hoping to talk to you both tonight about that."

"Future plans?"

Akane nodded. "Yeah… We… really don't have any, and that's a problem."

Ranma chimed in. "We think we know what we want, we just aren't sure what the best way to get there is. You're a great planner, Nabiki – we were hoping you could help us out."

Nabiki rubbed her chin, quietly contemplating the pair. "Tell you what – let's talk tomorrow, and then we'll see what we need to do. I'll bill you for it later, of course."

"Gee, thanks, sis. So kind of you to help us out in a bind." Akane's voice dripped with sarcasm. Nabiki only arched her eyebrow and smirked.

"What, you thought that just because I'm related to you I'd do it for free?" She smiled. "Anyway, let's start on this tomorrow. Okay?"

* * *

author's notes:

Hi all - this story may die when the new book is released. I didn't intend to write a novel, but I was 25 pages into chapter onewhen I realized I might be able to write the point of this story with out taking 500 pages to do it. So, depending on how the new novel turns out (The Half-blood Prince), I may or may not continue this. (I wrote several long scenes that I cut one was a lemon scene that i decided didn't add anything to the story, but was fun to write. The other will turn into chapter 2, if i decide to continue).

I will devote more of my time to Devils and Demons, but then again - that is going to be LONG, and I don't know if I have it in me right now. I'm going to try and write several smaller, complete works before I attempt to tackle either one of these.

Please don't let that discourage you from reviewing! I will still be writing, I just want to make sure I don't get overwhelmed - the last long one I wrote I feel I could have done a much better job, and I may revisit it to make sure it is coherent and unified. There were some short cuts I took in that, and I don't want to do that for my next 'epic' tale.

I envy writers who can make a complete story in under 10 pages. BAH, HUMBUG!


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